One Last Kiss
by The Original Frizzi
Summary: It's said that one should live every moment as if it was their last... how would you live if it was someone else's last moment? What would you do?


"Ah, so it's true. The infamous Zevran Arainai."

Zev froze at the sound of Taliesan's voice. Just when he thought he'd never see his fellow Crow and former partner again... "Taliesan," he replied cordially.

"And these are the people you were supposed to kill, hm? I can see now how *that* turned out."

The lead Warden waved her tattooed hand, irritated by the sudden distraction. "What do you want?" she fairly snapped at the newcomer.

"Tch, such manners," Taliesan chided. His gaze raking over Zev's other companions, he added, "You certainly know how to pick them."

Zev tensed ever so slightly, knowing that Taliesan could see what the elf himself noticed upon first meeting: how much his lover, his Q'ara, looked like Rinna. She was now quite the fierce warrior goddess, having grown under such wonderful tutelage if he would say so himself. Her firmly planted feet told him she was already plotting the first strike. "I certainly do," he replied. "Though I wouldn't have chosen you to come after me."

"I simply couldn't resist. When I had heard the "mighty" Zevran had fallen from ranks, I had to see for myself." The softening in the corners of Taliesan's eyes hinted at the dropping of his act. "It is not too late, my friend. We can make up a story, the Crows will accept you back..."

And they would just as soon kill him for not completing the job he was ordered to do. Unless he turned on them now, slew them here, if he could. Immediately, a picture came to his mind: Rinna's face, etched with sorrow and betrayal... how easily it could be blurred, shifted to look like Q'ara's...

"I am sorry, Taliesan. But I am not going back."

His former partner's face hardened once again. "Alive or dead, you are returning to Antiva!" The sound of blades being unsheathed echoed around the small group.

Q'ara simply raised her metallic arm into view, poised across her chest. "You can have him..." With a subtle flick of her wrist, two wicked looking blades shot out, locking into place and creating a weapon. "... over my dead body."

Zev smirked at the shocked pause, which she used to her advantage, rushing the line of assassins. Oh yes, he did *indeed* choose them well.

The battle was lengthy, due to the odds stacked against the small party. It was also relatively easy, since Zev knew what to look for. The Crows numbers were dwindling steadily, yet Taliesan was holding his own against both Alistair and Q'ara. Dispatching a younger Crow, he started making his way across the field to further assist, when their foe pulled a vial from a hidden pocket. The flash bomb stunned the two warriors long enough for the Crow to get away...

Zev now ran, knowing what would happen next; alas, he was too late. All he saw of Q'ara was her shocked face as it fell to the blade protruding from her chest. The next thing he knew, both of his blades were in Taliesan's neck, the last of his former friend's life shortly following the blood that now stained the stone steps. His arms then wrapped around his love, easing her down when she buckled from the pain.

"Burns... it burns..." she gasped into his neck. She cried out in pain at the slightest shifting of her armor, drowning out Zev cursing his friend's memory of elaborate poisons. Both Wardens started talking at once; they had to pull the blade out- no, that would make things worse... one was going to race back to the Arl's estate and fetch Wynne, while the other was going to see what in their packs could tide her over in the meantime. Zev struggled to think of an antidote, amidst the labored breathing that made his heart ache.

"Zev," Q'ara gasped.

"I am here, Q'ara mia," he crooned, gently rocking her. "Hush now, love..."

She swallowed thickly, her limbs beginning to shake as the poison took effect. Head rolling back to look up at him, she murmured, "Like the... sound... 'f that..."

Despite the situation, he found himself laughing at the remark. "I do too, cara," Zev agreed. Which was true; the earring had been burning a hole in the pouch for days now.

"... don' wanna die..."

"You won't," Zev insisted, cradling her face with a hand. "Keep your eyes open, Q'ara, stay with me."

"Promise...?"

Any words he wanted to say were choked up in his throat. She didn't need any words of honor or valor, no displays of great strength and skill... she needed him, as a man, to hold and protect her, his woman... "Mia cuore," he whispered, touching his lips to hers in the first kiss he allowed himself to have. She hummed softly, meeting his fervor as best she could... and slumping against him as her strength gave out.

Zev's tortured cries echoed off the empty alleyway's walls.


End file.
